Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Chad and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Neil Young to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Franke. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Matthew Bourne,
Quadrant,
The Real Kids,
The Stooges,
Bobby Sherman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Blues Magoos,
Bauhaus,
Erasure,
Rufus Thomas,
Tom Boy,
Jandek,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Bowie,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Sheep,
Joe Finger,
Minor Threat,
Sister Nancy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric Copeland,
Make Up,
Agitation Free,
AZ,
Soft Machine,
The Happenings,
Sex Pistols,
Technova,
Henry Cow,
The Selecter,
Eddi Front,
Little Man,
Reagan Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Neu!,
Goldenarms,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Desert Stars,
KRS-One,
Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Sällskapet,
cv313,
The Gladiators,
Main Source,
The Kinks,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Pretty Things,
K-Klass,
Josef K,
the Bar-Kays,
This Heat,
Lakeside,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gories,
Maurizio,
Duran Duran,
Young Marble Giants,
Ice-T,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.